Ever since her confrontation with the buckskin mare, Naz had taken care to avoid entering the Dunes much past the fringes of the territory, and remain ever alert, so that whenever another approached, she’d slink away. It was strange that she lingered so long, and less and less did her thoughts drift back to her King across the sea. That day, when she had met Bahadir, and together they had explored the hidden waterfall cave, something secret and subtle had changed within the desert dweller. She had revealed that curiosity served as her guide. And Bahadir’s guide? His heart.
Despite having parted ways after a brief time, all those months ago, Naz had somehow found herself drawn to this place. She knew Bahadir was here – had watched over him from a distance all this time, a shadowy guardian at the borders of his kingdom of sand. The marwari was not so foolish to believe that she had gone unnoticed by the Dunes King, nor the other residents of the land, but if any had tried to approach her, Naz had maintained her distance. Bahadir, if he’d been as aware of her presence as Naz had been of his, had respected her clear desire for her own company.
They were tangled up together, at least that’s how Naz felt. For what else would keep her here so long? It certainly wasn’t the land itself, even if the familiarity of it crept into her dreams at night. There was a vast island of sand and desert and rocky outcrops, dotted with palms and oases and clusters of dry grass. And yet, there was no desire in her presently to explore, to meet others – both ones meant for this terrain, and ones who chose to suffer its harsh way of life. She certainly had no desire to seek the approval of the buckskin mare, nor endure her presence.
And so, she remained alone, surviving and thriving on the outskirts. A lone sentinel, waiting and watching, always watching.
Her gold and blue eyes watch Bahadir take to the sea, after the buckskin mare charges off alone. She waits, restless for the rabicano to return. She is not alone in her waiting, but where the colt was pacing nervously, Naz remained composed, wisely conserving her energy. But the white-faced mare was quick to spring into action the moment her sharp eyes caught sight of a familiar figure struggling through the sea to the shore. Even before she sees the blood in the water, she feels her chest tighten in concern. Something was wrong.
Everything was wrong.
Apprehension had been building for some time, gathering like black clouds on the horizon. The islands were holding their breath, bracing for the coming storm. It had cast an ominous shadow over Naz, who was particularly sensitive to these things. And like a bolt of lightning splitting the sky, the fierce marwari mare took Bahadir’s battered appearance as a sign. Her heart trembled within her, and she felt her very bones quiver as though touched by thunder. She had seen war like this before, and would not leave Bahadir to face it alone.
With confidence and concern, she strode across the sand, coming to a halt beside the bay stallion where he’d stopped on the beach. In silence, and with a discerning eye, she looked over his injury, feeling worry spark within her. Bahadir needed to rest and recover, so that if the bloodthirsty horde turned its sights on him again, he would be ready to face them. “Do not be disheartened, sadiqaa,” Naz said to him softly, noting his posture of defeat and hoping to nudge him out of his dark emotional state. “You still have your life, and you will fight another day.” She did not waste time greeting him, nor asking how he’d been. There would be time for talk later, but Bahadir was injured and exhausted, and she would see him settled somewhere safe.
The colt had been saying something to Bahadir, but Naz had paid him no heed (which was a blessing in a way, because his words would’ve drawn a humourless laugh from her – what did a juvenile stallion know of a lead mare’s responsibilities?). She finally turned to him now, a sense of urgency making her words blunt. “Move, boy. It is not wise to linger here, and more importantly, your King needs attention.” With that, she would move to Bahadir’s side, so that if he needed to, he could lean on her with his uninjured shoulder, and she would support him. “Do you think you can make it to your oasis?” Naz asked, for though she’d examined his injury, only Bahadir could judge how far his wounded shoulder could carry him, and Naz would take her lead from him, not pushing him beyond what he thought was wise.